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I hesitated, the warmth of his presence both inviting and disarming.

The gentle glow of candlelight flickered across his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

Everything about him demanded my attention, like a flame to a moth, something that both thrilled and frightened me.

Finally, I gracefully lowered myself into the chair, my fingers brushing the cool surface of the polished table as I stole another glance at him. “Thank you,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

He took his seat across from me, his gaze steady as he poured the wine. “I hope you like lamb,” he said, breaking the silence, and I could hear the subtle pride in his voice.

The tantalizing scents of rosemary and garlic wafted through the air, drawing me deeper into the experience.

I inhaled, allowing the smell to awaken my senses.

Despite the tension that still lingered between us, the promise of a warm meal felt like a welcome distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind, and for a heartbeat, I allowed myself to relish the comfort, the simple pleasure of good food shared with someone who made me feel… safe.

I took a sip of the wine, its rich, velvety flavor coating my tongue. The warmth it provided spread through my chest, momentarily dulling the turmoil within me. But as I placed the glass back down, my eyes once again drifted toward Adrian.

“Are you always this good at surprises?” I blurted out, trying to regain some control over my thoughts, but my voice betrayed the nervousness I felt. There was a vulnerability in the air, and I wasn’t used to it, especially not around someone like him.

Adrian leaned back in his chair, the playful grin still tugging at his plush lips. “I like to keep things interesting.”

His words were light, but his gaze was intense, never wavering from mine.

It was as if he were studying me, peeling back the layers I had built up for years, and I hated how easily he seemed to do it.

I couldn’t afford to be seen like this, to feel like this.

But it was too late. He had already glimpsed the cracks beneath my armor.

I picked up my fork, focusing on the food. As I ate the perfectly cooked, tender, flavorful lamb, my thoughts wandered back to Adrian. At how easy it would be to let go, to allow myself to fall into the comfort of his presence, to lean on him even more. But I knew I couldn’t.

As if sensing the shift in my mood, Adrian’s voice cut through the silence. “You’re somewhere else,” he observed quietly, his tone softer now, concerned.

I looked up at him, trying to hide the storm brewing inside me, but his expression showed otherwise. He was too perceptive, too attuned to the way I guarded myself.

“I’m just thinking about… everything.” It was a vague response, but it was the truth.

I couldn’t escape my thoughts, no matter how hard I tried.

Every minute of the day, memories invaded my mind.

I micro-analyzed every action and word I made, and tortured myself with different scenarios each time.

It was exhausting, and yet I had to keep the calm, collected royal facade, no matter what played on my head, and recently I’ve wondered if I can keep this up much longer.

He didn’t press further, instead letting the silence stretch between us, an uncomfortable pause as we both continued our meal.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too, this feeling between us.

The way he looked at me sometimes, like he saw right through the mask I wore, made me question how much longer I could keep pretending that he did not affect me. Because that was a lie.

“So,” Adrian said after a while, his voice lighter again, trying to lift the tension, “I have to ask, did I impress you with my cooking skills?”

A small laugh escaped me, surprising even myself. I shook my head, unable to keep a smile from forming. “I have to admit, you did.”

His grin widened, and for a moment, everything felt easy between us.

The tension that had hung over us all evening seemed to dissipate, replaced by something lighter.

But even as I laughed, there was a part of me that remained cautious, the part that remembers what happens when I let my guard down completely.

As we finished the meal, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment, this quiet, intimate evening, could be my everyday. But I had learned long ago that peace was always fleeting, especially in my world, and this would only complicate things further. My kingdom was at stake. My duty as Queen .

But for now, in this small bubble of time, I allowed myself to forget. To just be in the present with him, even if it meant indulging in a brief fantasy of what it might be like to let someone else in again.

“You don’t have to clean up,” I said as Adrian stood up, gathering the plates.

He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes locking with mine. “I don’t mind,” he replied, but now his tone was quieter, as if the moment meant to him too.

I watched him for a moment longer before standing up and stepping toward him, feeling the sudden need to close the distance between us.

“Thank you,” I said, meaning it more than just for the dinner.

For being there, for seeing me when I hadn’t wanted to be seen, for being my mate and for understanding.

Adrian turned to face me fully, and for a moment, neither of us moved. The air between us felt charged. We both waited for something to happen, for someone to make the next move.

“Iryen…” His voice was an inaudible murmur, filled with something I couldn’t quite place, almost like a plea. He reached out, his hand hovering near my arm as if he wasn’t sure if he should touch me. And in that moment, I realized just how dangerous this was. How dangerous he was.

Not because I feared him, but because I feared how easily I could fall. How much I wanted to.

* * *

After dinner, we sat in the living room, enjoying the view from the floor-to-ceiling windows that opened onto a balcony. The silence between us was deafening, thick with unspoken words. I shifted in my seat, unable to take it anymore.

“I want to know more about you. Besides the sports car and this gorgeous penthouse. What else are you hiding?” I teased, but we both knew he wasn’t the type to keep secrets.

“I’m not hiding anything. You just never bothered to ask,” he replied, his tone light but his words cutting deep.

A leaden weight settled in my chest, dull and crushing, making it hard to breathe, and guilt gnawed at me.

“Which I get. You’ve got a kingdom to protect, and I’m just an outsider.

Though I’m still wrapping my head around learning about an entirely new species. ”

“I don’t think you were hiding,” I replied softly, trying to ease the tension that suddenly hung between us. “But… you’re right. I haven’t asked.”

His eyes flickered with hurt, his shoulders taunt and still. “And why not? Why don’t you want to know who I am, beyond all of this?” He gestured vaguely around the penthouse, his voice carrying a note of frustration beneath the lightness.

I hesitated, considering his words. Not that I didn’t want to know, but there had been so much else to focus on. I didn’t know about him beyond the bond, and that was my fault. These feelings left me spinning, unsure of how to navigate this unfamiliar terrain.

“I suppose,” I started carefully, my gaze locking onto his, “it’s hard to let someone in after everything I’ve been through.

” My words hung between us, and I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes.

I swallowed hard, knowing what I needed to say next, even though it wrapped my heart.

A sharp, blinding jolt tore through my side, white-hot and relentless, as if someone had driven a blade straight into my ribs and twisted as I uttered the words.

“Besides, you were leaving soon, weren’t you?

So I guess I was just protecting myself from that pain. ”

“But that doesn’t matter now,” I continued, searching for the right words, for the courage to say what I’d been trying to avoid, “because I’ll feel the loss either way. ”

A sad smile tugged at my lips. I was giving up my mate for the safety of my kingdom.

The ache in my chest deepened, the bittersweet reality of it washing over me.

The bond we shared couldn’t outweigh the duty that tethered me to Aetheria.

My people needed me, and I couldn’t afford to let emotions get in the way.

But as I sat there, staring at the man who had shaken my world in ways I never expected, I wondered if I could ever truly let go. I knew I would not get over him, and this pain would become another companion in the prison I built for my emotions.

Adrian’s expression softened, his eyes searching mine. “You’re not the only one trying to protect yourself, you know,” he mumbled, sitting closer. “But I’m still here for you.”

I blinked, surprised by the intensity in his gaze, the vulnerability he allowed himself to show. For a moment, neither of us moved.

“I don’t know how to do this,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to thrust.”

His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. The simple touch sent affection rushing through me, a comfort I hadn’t realized I needed.

“You could start by opening up,” Adrian murmured, his fingers lingering near my cheek, sending a subtle warmth through me. “But you don’t need to if you don’t want to.”

But that was the thing I wanted to do. I wanted to tell him about my past, about the pain that shaped me, about the scars I kept hidden beneath layers of duty and responsibility.

I wanted to trust him, to let him in. But fear clung to me, deep and relentless.

The fear of being hurt again, of being vulnerable and losing him like I had lost so many before.